Something Different, Entirely Unexpected
by Catsitta
Summary: They were merely pawns in a game between nations. In the end, can either of them win? Slightly AU. Gradual Sephiroth x Yuffie.
1. 1

**A/N:**

This is a one shot project that got out of hand…and became a chaptered story. I attempted to put a more realistic spin on the Sephiroth and Yuffie pairing, so no crack humor. Please give it a chance, enjoy the result and, of course, review!

I would like to thank Blackcat686 for being an awesome beta and, not only cleaning up this first chapter, but also giving me some wonderful ideas to flesh the story out.

**Summary: **They were both pawns in a game between nations. Can either of them win? A remix of the Wutai War and its effects on the events that follow, including what is cannon to Crisis Core and after. Gradual Sephiroth x Yuffie.

**Word Count**: 4,400

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot.

**Something Different, Entirely Unexpected**

By Catsitta

**(Chapter Beta: **blackcat868**)**

1.

Wutai was a beautiful land full of pride and tradition. Its people were strong, with a love of crafts seen by outsiders as exotic or unfamiliar. From festivals that showcased their love of danger and dance, to the marketplaces that sold the fruit of labors generations in the making, every aspect of Wutai was a piece of its cultural puzzle. For centuries, this was how it was. Never changing…a land lost, or perhaps preserved by, the passing of time.

Then came ShinRa, a man seeking profit and glory, who did not take no for an answer. When Emperor Godo Kisaragi told him to go elsewhere in his search for the Promise Land, that he would not soil his country with the stain of foreign ambition, ShinRa became angry.

He declared war on Wutai, provoking the smaller nation into action.

No one thought he would win.

No one knew that the President of a mere electric company had done what had been deemed impossible.

ShinRa had united a string of small towns and cities through his quest for Mako energy. To protect his investments, the Mako Reactors, he hired men to defend them and scientists to monitor and improve them, as well as inventors to create new Mako powered systems. In a time frame spanning perhaps a decade, he had built a company whose influence touched half of the known world, and a position of power that no one could deny.

Especially not after he introduced the SOLDIER and Turk programs.

His hired men, who had become a military over the few short years, were tested and trained and the best of the best were given a chance to become part of the elite. Many died. Many quit. Many turned the offer down. But by the time ShinRa came to Wutai, he had a dozen Turks behind him, and fifteen Mako-enhanced SOLDIERs. The two groups were very different, but their purpose was united.

They were to cripple Wutai, destroy its defenses and rip from it its strength.

It became a long a treacherous battle, with neither side relenting.

Well over a decade passed before the tide turned—stealing away Wutai's chance at driving out the invading force.

ShinRa had loosed a Demon in their midst.

A child SOLDIER named Sephiroth.

000X000

He was only a boy. What had ShinRa done to corrupt the youth and turn him into a monster?

These were the thoughts of Empress Kisaragi as she watched her husband bargain with the enemy. President ShinRa had come to Wutai to negotiate peace, or so he said, but how were they to make peaceful arrangements when behind him stood the men who bloodied their country with weapons and magic?

Turks and SOLDIERs, he called them.

She saw boys trained to be murders and spies, stuffed in either a navy suit or a combat uniform. It was shameful, what ShinRa had done to his own people, turning children into men too young and sending them off to war. The youngest of all, at fifteen, being the General of his army, Sephiroth. And just by looking at him she knew they had done something horrible to craft him into a demon that no one could match in battle.

With a strikingly beautiful countenance any stage performer would envy, from his high cheek bones to his narrow nose and curved mouth, the Empress believed Sephiroth to have been destined to a life more suited to gentler trades. Whatever ShinRa and his scientists did to him turned that pretty child into a weapon also gave the boy definitively…alien features. Long hair silver by birth rather than age, being the first; and the second being his cat-like eyes that were green rather than the typical SOLDIER blue.

Said eyes seemed distant at the moment. Lingering on a place on the wall above everyone's heads. There was a dream-like softness about him as his thoughts wandered another world, and one could only wonder if it was a land of beauty or of blood that caused his gaze to glaze over. One could only marvel at how peaceful he could be and how young he was for a man of his station.

It was then that she remembered what lay mounted upon the wall above. A true masterpiece that any swordsman would be a fool not to appreciate.

Curious, but saddened, the Empress looked away.

Pitying the enemy was the last thing that should be on her mind.

Her daughter, her little Yuffie, should be her first and only concern. The girl was only a year old and often slept fitfully, crying loudly when unable to rest, wanting the comfort of her mother's arms.

"YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO US!" Bellowed Godo.

"You've left me no other choice." Countered ShinRa.

The Empress kept her eyes down, knowing it was not her place to interfere with the politics of men. It was hard, though, when she desired nothing more than to stand up from where she knelt and speak her mind—to silence the arguments. She hated conflict. She hated war. After a lifetime worth of war, all she wanted was peace.

She would give anything for this goal.

Did these men not understand how weary their nations were of war? Those that heeded ShinRa's call likely had families they wanted to return to, children they wanted a chance to raise. The people of Wutai could not possibly be alone in their seeking of an end.

She could not possibly be alone…

"There must be a way to end this bloodshed." Said Godo, wearily, drawing the Empress' attention once again to the conversation. She lifted gray eyes just a fraction, noting his ashen complexion.

"I wish to build Mako Reactors in Wutai." ShinRa wore a mask of calm, but his steel-blue eyes were glittering with arrogant satisfaction. "Of course, had you agreed in the first place to the proposal then we would not be having this conversation."

Godo was silent, weariness aging him well beyond his actual years.

"And even should you agree now, it would be impossible for me to trust your intentions. A rebel faction may attack my workers or destroy my Reactors. If you want peace between us, Emperor Kisaragi, then you must allow the Reactors to be built and for my men to be stationed in Wutai as a means of security."

"What? You cannot—"

"How else could you guarantee the safety of the Reactors?"

Godo stood, his face suddenly flushed with outrage. "You wish to suppress my people with your SOLDIERs. You wish to put fear in hearts of every man, woman and child. You wish for us to bow to your word. We will never bend! I shall not sign a treaty on these terms!"

"Then we will remain at war."

She could no longer stand it. The foolishness of these men!

Empress Kisaragi stood, uncaring of the consequences; she would blame it on her genteel nature and youth. But this war had to stop here and now and she was prepared to lose everything if it meant her daughter could grow up in a world free of the nightmares she had lived through. How she hated the cry of battle, the rattle of gunfire…the screams of pain. How she hated the sight of bleeding, dying men as they fell before her very eyes in order to report the obliteration of a battalion.

Feeling all eyes on her, she steadied herself, found her inner resolve and kept her chin high. Any weakness would ruin her chance of stopping the death and destruction.

"President ShinRa, you want more than a mere promise for us to keep our word and leave your Reactors alone." A statement—nothing could be questioned at this point. "Then let us prove our desire for peace. A union between your nation and Wutai, perhaps. That way, we cannot go back upon our word without harming the heart of our honor."

There was a hitch in her husband's breath as the realization settled in. His angry flush became white terror. "No…" His voice was but a whisper.

ShinRa considered her words for moment before folding both hands before him, leaning across the low table separating them. "What kind of union do you mean, your highness?"

"It was once common practice to bind families through blood in order to seal contracts…to guarantee both would keep their part in an arrangement or to bring peace during a conflict."

"Marriage…Between whom, your highness?" The man seemed confused by the concept.

"As the ruling family of Wutai, it would be the honor of our daughter to marry your heir."

"My son is eight and your daughter newborn, your highness."

"My husband is near twenty years my senior." A small smile quirked upon your lips," Though I suspect it goes against your ideals to have a marriage arranged for your son with the daughter of the enemy."

The expression on ShinRa's face confirmed her presumptions and a cold weight dropped in her gut. He was not bending…he was not changing from his course of action. Her speaking out was for naught…

"These terms need to be considered, your highness." Said ShinRa.

"An hour." The Empress knew better to give the man too much time to think.

"In an hour then," the man motioned to his men, "we shall resume this meeting. You have given me much to ponder, your highness."

And then they were gone, with the exception of the Demon. He hesitated when the others followed without question and looked back. She refrained from shuddering beneath the raw intensity of his gaze—Sephiroth was more than a tactical mind, more than simply cunning…His were the eyes of a genius, a mind seeking to understand every detail before plunging into the chaos. He understood that she was willing to make one of the greatest sacrifices a mother could make, and he respected it despite questioning it as he was likely prone to do concerning all things.

The boy General turned on his heel and swiftly disappeared from the room as well, almost as if he had never paused in the first place.

And as the weight of the room lightened, the Empress breathed in deeply and glanced towards her husband.

He stared back at her with disbelief.

Godo was willing to send every man in his country to his early grave for the sake of honor, but the life of his only child was something too great for him to ever sacrifice. He would one day understand, she decided, kneeling yet again.

Her husband said nothing, too heartbroken to find the words.

The wheels of fate were in motion, and in an hour's time, they would know where they had ended up.

000X000

In silence, Sephiroth waited for the President to make a decision. He was rambling aloud, attempting to use the proposal made by the Empress to his best advantage. It became obvious, very quickly, that he did not want his family bloodline tainted by 'Wutaian' filth. The very thought of his precious son marrying the Empress' daughter appalled him. However, he wanted the union; it would give his company more power than it ever had before…

But who? It seemed to be the key question. Who could he marry the girl off to that would not be seen as so much of an insult to the Wutaian people that they withdrew the offer? It would have to make strategic sense.

Sephiroth only shook his head.

He was the General of the military, and it was part of his duty to attend meetings such as these and occasionally even put his signature on a document or two. While he meandered here in the Royal Palace, there was a war out there still being fought. How his fingers itched to take up a blade and make it sing.

Speaking of which, he could not get his mind off of the beautiful sword displayed on the wall above the Emperor and Empress. His thoughts kept flicking back to it and the fact that everyone else in the room seemed oblivious to its masterful craftsmanship. Amongst a sea of colorful draperies, artful watercolors, and painted paper lanterns—the sword stood out. It was a harsh plane of gray amongst the frivolous opulence…practical in its impracticality.

After all, a seven foot katana was not a weapon the average man would consider more than decoration. It was of the finest make, Sephiroth could tell just from what he had seen of it, because its unique shine revealed it to be made of the rarest of metals, demascus steel, something only master swords makers were allowed to even touch.

"General Sephiroth, are you paying attention?"

Upon hearing the President ask that very question, Sephiroth blinked back into reality.

"Pardon sir, for my distraction."

"No matter, our time is up. Let us return to the Emperor and his dear lady."

The silver General nodded, offering a polite salute before following the man out of the room, his mind quickly traveling elsewhere.

000X000

Leaning against the back wall, furthest from the debating political leaders, Sephiroth stared at the sword above. It was hard not to let his looks become longing…lustful. Every ounce of his being seemed to gravitate towards to the beautiful blade and to be in its presence was like denying himself a drug he was all too tempted to taste. How he wanted to feel its weight in his hand.

Just as his eyes slipped shut, if only to break the spell and resist the unfamiliar sensation of desire—Sephiroth heard the clatter of porcelain as it hit wood, its contents spilled. Curious, he at last graced the scene with his attention, noting the pallor of every face in the room. Two tea cups were rolling on the low table before the royal family, both severely cracked from the impact of being dropped. Then, one of them crawled to the edge and fell, shattering against the marble floor, breaking the sudden silence.

For some reason, President ShinRa was the only certain one in the room.

His steel colored eyes were narrowed, a thin smirk splitting his handsome features like a razor. He had put on weight since he first came into office, and typically it gave his face a healthy, almost friendly softness that put many men at ease. But now, one could see past his gentle mask and peer into the madness within. The very madness he concealed behind white teeth, rosy cheeks and low swept blond hair.

Sephiroth shook his head imperceptibly and allowed his bangs to shadow his face. For all he was the esteemed and cold-hearted demon General, he was but a child playing a man. The President had more than once revealed to the Board of Directors his true colors, and as General, Sephiroth had to attend. Watching the man now reminded him of those long-winded hours where the man schemed and plotted with his council of maniacs and fools, blissfully ignoring the whispered conscious of the one good-hearted man present.

It sickened him then as much as it did now, but he was only a warrior…a weapon…His voice was not one meant to be heard in any matter outside that of war.

"You cannot possibly expect us to accept that arrangement!" It was the Emperor who broke the terrified silence, his voice pitched high with tension. He appeared to be trembling, his knuckles white, bloodless, as he gripped the edge of the table—almost as if it were the only anchor he possessed. "It is insulting! Preposterous! The shame it would bring upon our household."

ShinRa maintained his eerily sharp smirk, however, the paleness to his lips suggested the expression quickly becoming forced. "Then I am afraid we have no treaty." He stood, brushing off his suit casually and motioning for the aid of his Turk bodyguards. "I shall depart. Perhaps we can reach a reasonable agreement at another time."

Veld, the Turk Director, came to stand between the President and the royal family. His loyal men were quick to assemble and coordinate, ready to escort the man from the palace.

Wearily, Sephiroth cast one last glance at the sword on the wall before taking his place in the formation…only, he felt as if there were eyes upon him. Turning his head to glance over one shoulder, he noticed that the Empress was staring, her gaze burning straight through him. She was a tiny, harmless looking creature, but he knew better. The woman was a hardened ninja disguised as a hothouse flower—her deadly nature masked by her submissive mannerisms and painted face. Much like a rose with poisoned thorns.

He doubted anyone else knew, even the Emperor himself.

But the way she held herself, even while kneeling like some fragile maiden, revealed to him her secrets. Why a woman heavily training in the art of combat would settle for a life of marble and silk was beyond him…perhaps it suited her better. Perhaps she was disgusted by her own deadly efficiency and turned in her steel for a life of luxury. A life without bloodshed. A life in which she could act the delicate orchid blooming despite the conditions under which her seed was sown.

Maybe, just maybe, she was a soul none too unlike himself. She merely had a chance to lay down her training in favor of something different…something she wanted instead of something she was forced to accept.

Sephiroth nodded to her, uncertain why exactly she was watching him so intently.

To his surprise, a smile graced her features. Those gray eyes that had been adverted for the majority of the meeting sparked with the same determination as when she proposed a marriage between her daughter and the ShinRa heir. He was quickly unsettled by the fire in those eyes. The pride. The certainty.

What was she planning?

"President ShinRa!" The Empress was on her feet, that small, lean body radiating confidence. She was far from the cowed little girl she claimed to be, and it seemed that today she was determined to prove it. "I have considered your proposal and have determined that it is for the best of both our people." Emperor Godo looked sick and stared weakly up at his young wife. The stress was taking its toll on him and he hadn't the strength to protest her actions. "A union between our two nations is an opportunity that cannot be ignored, and while my daughter cannot wed until her eighteenth year, I wish for us to make peace today."

Every pair of eyes was on the Empress, while hers were upon Sephiroth.

"I was under the impression that my chosen suitor for your daughter was an insult." ShinRa began, his hand resting on the doorframe, his back still turned away. "What brought about this change of heart?"

The Empress lifted her chin in a gesture that radiated sheer dignity.

"The realization that, for all his sins, he is but a child. One whom you have recognized as your ward. While he is not the heir to your bloodline or even your Presidency, a union between he and my daughter will be the closest guarantee you can promise to this war ending."

Sephiroth felt a chill run down his spine.

"Come, we shall write up the contract. As both members in this arrangement are under the age of adulthood, we as their guardians shall sign for them." Emperor Godo buried his face with both hands, as if he could not believe his wife was defying him in such a way. President ShinRa was now looking at the Empress with curiosity and satisfaction in his gaze. And Sephiroth was simply trying to process the information he had just heard. How much of the meeting had he ignored? "And, in seventeen years, upon my daughter's coming of age, the contract will be sealed. If before that date either child were to die, then the contract will be rendered invalid. After their marriage, there is no voiding the agreement except in the occurrence of acts considered treasonous."

Sephiroth frowned. Who was the Princess being married to?

"General Sephiroth," the silver-haired teen arched a brow at the Empress. "As an expression of good faith, once the contract and treaty are signed, I would like to present to you an early piece of your future…dowry." He felt his entire body go ridged. His throat was unbearably dry. Had she just implied…? The Empress motioned to the proud sword on the wall above her head. "The Masamune has been in our family for generations, waiting for the right master. She is yours as a promise to make peace rather than war. May she serve you well in the coming years."

Disbelief overtook him, but he did not betray his reaction by allowing it show on his face. Rather, he steeled himself, forcing down the weakness of emotion in order to keep his cool resolution. Sephiroth knew he should be panicking or protesting, but one glance in the President's direction merely reinforced his forced calm. The man was watching him expectantly, as if he half-suspected him to speak up in disagreement or bow his head and surrender to his fate.

Instead, Sephiroth did neither.

"Your highness," he began, keeping his voice low so as to keep his tone even, "I am honored by your trust, but…" President ShinRa's gaze was unrelenting. His bid for the General to return to silence almost willed-strongly enough to hear. "What of your people? What of your daughter? Peace cannot be obtained through the union of Wutai's beloved and the Demon that the ShinRa Company sent to conquer the land. Your people are too proud. It will wound their trust in you as their Empress. As for your daughter, how will she feel growing up, knowing, that her hand is promised to the enemy?"

While he did not make small talk often, the young General had learned early on how speak to a crowd. His tactical mind could sort and place each word of a speech in a way that appealed to his audience. He could set his tone, his posture and diction in order to telegraph the underlying message within. Whether it be a motivational speech to rally his troops, or a meeting of the minds in which he needed to express ideas in a fluid sequence of thought—Sephiroth could talk his way through all of it.

It was one of the reasons he reached General so young. Not only was his immensely powerful, but he was charismatic when need be. People often whispered of how hypnotizing his voice was, and how it was impossible not to listen when he spoke.

There was no possible reason why the Empress would ignore him or his warnings. It would simply be impractical! However, it was all too easy to forget how impractical humans were by nature…

"You speak the truth," The Empress admitted, though with a gleam in her eye, "and your observations are commendable for someone so young." Hypocrite, Sephiroth silently added, deducing that the women herself was perhaps four, maybe five years his senior at most. It was difficult to tell sometimes with Wutaians (ironically enough he was half Wutaian himself) because they kept their youthful looks well into their middle years. "However, my decision is final. As long as President ShinRa and my husband are willing to sign the contract and the treaty, I am not retracting my choice. In the end, even if they hate me for it, this will protect my people. I love them too much to continue watching them suffer and perish in vain."

Sephiroth drew in a ragged breath, unable to quite come to terms with what was happening. "An honorable sacrifice, your highness." He said, realizing the inevitable. "I—I…" His charisma fled him, leaving him feeling vulnerable and childish beneath the Empress' never wavering gaze. So instead of continuing to try and protest, he schooled his emotions and expressions into that of acceptance.

He was, after all, just a pawn in the grand scheme of things.

The world may have known him as the fearless Demon of Wutai, and run in both fear and awe when he approached—but he held no power in this game between nations. His title and rank, superb mental acuity and strength were valuable to himself alone in the end. He was expendable. And right now, the President was using Sephiroth to gain more of the power he craved.

There was nothing he could say or do to change a thing aside from kill himself or abandon the only world he ever knew. The world of science and SOLDIER, of politics and war. What would he do with himself should he choose to leave, to not play this game? Nothing. That was the problem. He could do nothing outside of becoming the ultimate weapon for a company who treated him like a tool and used him shamelessly for its own benefit.

It was why he did not fight harder to change everyone's mind.

He was the President's ward, and as long as the man kept him safely out of Professor Hojo's reach, Sephiroth would find some way to be appreciative and happy with his situation. Even if it meant marrying an utter stranger, one who would have every reason to hate him, in seventeen years.

'_I will be thirty-two when she is eighteen…'_ Sephiroth found himself realizing as he watched the royal family, the President and a slew of Turks disappear into another room to discuss the details of the contract and treaty. Already, at only fifteen, he felt like some kind of pedophile…a creepy old man…a cradle robber. His bride-to-be was but a squalling infant while he was almost a grown man! _'It is…unfortunate that things have come to this.'_

Deciding not to linger on his thoughts too long, he turned his focus onto Masamune. The Empress had offered the blade as a temptation, and since he had no choice in the matter, he might as well claim the one object he had ever desired with any level of intensity.

His mind clearing of the unpleasantness of the past and future, Sephiroth reached for Masamune, savoring the feel of untouched sharkskin leather against his palm as he curled his fingers around the weapon's hilt.

000**tbc**000

**A/N: ( So…what do you think? I'm mostly done with the second part of this story and will hopefully be able to post it soon. I want to hear your thoughts, theories, etc. Idea cookies are my favorite! )**


	2. 2

**A/N:**

Okay, here is part two of what is becoming a five part tale. It seems my one shot idea was blown out of the water yet again…ah well. I would like to thank everyone for their lovely reviews and I do hope you keep reading.

However, this and many of my others stories might be on a brief hiatus. Why? I'm starting my first day of college classes tomorrow. But, as I love writing, I will try not to be gone too much for too long…(I promise nothing come the semester point)

Anywho~

A special shout out to** ScribeOfRED** whom offered some lovely advice about my dialogue punctuation. So, hopefully I did it right this time. ^_^

**Word Count: **7,100

**Disclaimer: **I still own nothing.

**Something Different, Entirely Unexpected**

**By Catsitta**

**(Chapter Beta: **blackcat686 )

2.

Once a year, they were obligated to meet.

Sephiroth had been none too pleased with the arrangement, but since he was already in Wutai, made no protest. At least, not for the first few years. It was when the conflict dwindled to some semblance of an end and he returned to Midgar, that he considered speaking up. After all, returning to a country that hated him and everything he represented, to visit the only child of the royal family—on his birthday of all days!—was not an enjoyable experience.

However, he continued to be silent, grumbling only when prodded by his closest friends, and fellow First Class SOLDIERs. The two men were slightly older than he, both from Banora, and despite growing up together, were as different as night and day. He could ask for no companions better than they, no one more loyal and full of unique understanding. They were the missing pieces of himself, in a way, Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos. His brothers in arms…his brothers in heart.

Despite this, Sephiroth still did not feel comfortable confessing the reasoning behind his sudden deployment to Wutai. He could not quite find the words to explain his engagement, as an eighteen year old, newly fledged adult, to a four year old Princess of the country that scorned his very name. It was complicated, confusing and in an odd sort of way, humiliating.

The fewer people that knew, the better, for more than one reason.

One: It would place a target for assassination upon both his and Yuffie's backs. Two: It would give certain persons blackmail material. Three: It would ruin his poster boy image, one that needed preserving if he was to keep order among the ranks.

How long these reasons would keep the engagement a secret was a daunting prospect. He knew that the Empress had vouched for honesty and had wished to make an announcement upon the contract's signing. Only a great deal of persuasion convinced her to hold her tongue and wait for a while, to allow the fire of war to fade into smoke and ash before confessing the controversial union. Each day that passed while she held her silence was a small blessing.

Come the turn of every year, Sephiroth had taken to bowing his head in a semblance of prayer and thanks.

It was another cumbersome secret, but as long as everyone else could carry its weight, so could he, even alongside his haunting past of which he dared not speak.

With a sigh of resignation, Sephiroth tried to shake his head clear. The past needed to stay where it was and sooner or later all of his secrets would surface and bite him in ass…but until that day, he needed to keep his head high and his thoughts free of distraction. However, he had always been rather easy to distract—his mind never stayed in one place for very long. He could think on his feet in the midst of an unknown situation, formulate a dozen different strategies in a matter of minutes, and analyze an enemy for weakness without hesitation or fail. This skill to observe and calculate, his mind awhirl with a hundreds of ideas and idle musings, came paired with an unusual fault, one he kept well hidden until he was forced to sit still and listen to one person for more than five minutes.

What could he say? He had a short attention span, one that only seemed to worsen over the years due to more of his work consisting of documents and windblown speeches rather than the tactical art of warfare. How Sephiroth hated this new age of idleness. Masamune felt so right in his hand yet he could rarely sate their shared hunger. Mindless monsters were not enough…Over dramatic spars with his friends were not enough…

He needed more. He needed the thrill of battle. The thrill of a challenge! He needed something to be his distraction; otherwise, he would go insane from sheer boredom. What use was he as the ultimate weapon if he was shelved? None.

"We're almost to our destination, General." Tseng's voice rumbled through headache-inducing static of Sephiroth's headset, "Be prepared for landing." The silver-haired warrior grunted incoherently, his stupor of daydreams broken completely. Something about riding in a helicopter, whether it be the rhythmic thrum of the rotor blades or the fluid sway of the machine as it danced through the air—it put his body at ease, allowing him to rest the tension of his muscles even if his mind insisted on wandering to unwelcome places.

Slowly, he stretched in the limited space available, arching his back and straightening the crook in his knee. After a series of satisfying pops, Sephiroth hummed with approval, his eyes cast towards the large windshield before him. Two seats blocked his view, but he cared little. Wutai likely had not changed since he last stepped forth upon its soil.

"Seatbelt," warned the Turk, though only out of requirement. They both knew a crash from this height was not likely going to kill the SOLDIER, even if he was not wearing the safety belts or following other such precautionary measures. "Keep your eyes open, General," they were in enemy territory. Yes, there was a ceasefire and a tentative peace treaty between the two nations, but one wrong move could shatter everything, "And do try to enjoy your birthday, sir."

Why did the man have to remind him?

"I shall, Tseng." A small smirk appeared on his lips, "Do take care not to break out in song and dance, as you are prone to doing, and perhaps I can make something of this day."

There was a long pause and the helicopter was hovering only a few feet above the ground when the Turk responded, "Developing a sense of humor, General? Might I wonder what this world is coming to?"

"The end, Tseng," was Sephiroth's wistful reply,"the end. For the day I find a sense of humor is the day the apocalypse is upon us. Or at least, that is what Genesis tells me." Again, there was only static in his headset but he could see the quivering of the older man's shoulders as he restrained his laughter. They were different people, he and Tseng, with contrasting views of life and honor. And they were far from friends. But there was something else there, a not-quite-amicable sense of unity—it drove them to banter now and then, despite the hateful rivalry ingrained into them by their ranks.

"He speaks of things other than Loveless?"

"On occasion."

"Utter blasphemy, if you ask me."

"I haven't nor shall I."

Tseng let out a grunt of audible amusement, cutting their conversation off as swiftly as he landed the helicopter. The blades were still churning the air, deafeningly loud, when Sephiroth pulled open the door. Wind rushed over him, gusting through his hair and leather trench coat. One could say it was a fearsome sight, he, the Demon of Wutai, descending from the craft with his uniform and proud mane billowing behind him. He was cold and relentless looking clad entirely in black, especially when he retrieved his prized Masamune and held her in hand.

It was no wonder people feared him as naturally as they breathed.

So it came as a great surprise when he was intercepted on his way towards the palace by something small and shrieking, "Kitty!"

Sephiroth stiffened, recognizing all too well that dreadful screech.

"Yuffie…" he murmured, flinching slightly as the loud creature slammed into him and began to climb up his legs,"What are you doing?" Only a giggle came as a response and a few blinks later, he had a young girl perched on his shoulder like an oversized parrot. The General could almost imagine the surprise on his Turk escort's face as he watched the scene from the shadows. Why did his fiancé have to be a hyperactive child?

Then, without warning, the Princess tangled her hands in his hair,"I missed you, Kitty!"

Kitty. Of all the ridiculous things to call him, the great General and weapon of war…Kitty. Yuffie never could say his name quite right and just as he was leaving the previous year, she proclaimed him to be Kitty…and he had hoped she had forgotten. But for all of her silliness and games, she was fairly intelligent for a girl her age, with a memory that was selectively longer than that of a goldfish. And she had chosen to remember that nickname.

"My name is Sephiroth," he told her as he attempted to peel her from his shoulder one-handed. The agile little brat merely scurried out of his grasp. "Please try and remember that, Yuffie."

"Okay, Kitty."

"Yuffie…"

"That's my name!" she promptly wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed, hugging him awkwardly. Then she swung off his shoulder and dropped to the ground in a display much unlike any child her age. Already she showed an amazing level of dexterity that would benefit her greatly in many an art form, whether it be dance or fighting. "Did you bring me presents?" she smiled up at him, her mother's gray eyes practically glowing with unbridled energy.

Sephiroth attempted to level the girl with a stare, placing the intensity behind his gaze that made war-hardened veterans snap to attention. She had the good sense to balk for a moment, becoming quiet, but that phase was broken by her giggling. "You're so scary," Yuffie informed him with a smile, "but you're nice…"—said smile became impish—"…and you bring me presents!"

A long suffering sigh escaped him. The Princess of Wutai was spoilt rotten from her life of opulence and knew nothing of manners or boundaries. She should be a shy little deer, but instead she was a wild thing that climbed, ran and shrieked for all she was worth.

The little brat also liked shiny things with an unholy passion. He knew from experience that he had to be careful about his valuables, otherwise he would lose them to her sticky fingered ways. Last year she swiped his mastered Command materia right from under his nose and Sephiroth had almost left Wutai without it. Finding a toddler with an orb full of dangerous spells in her mouth was not exactly a pleasant experience, nor was having it pry it away from her. Yuffie had cried endlessly when he took it and only a promise to bring her something better the next year had quieted her complaints.

As a man of honor (no matter what people said), the young General always kept his word.

"Indeed I have a gift for you…" he flinched when Yuffie attached herself to one of his legs with a squeal. "…however, you must be patient and wait."

"Why?"

"It is good to learn patience, Yuffie."

"Why?"

"Patience is part of life."

"Why?"

He felt a head ache building, "It simply is, Yuffie. You need patience to achieve, to learn, to grow." Yuffie blinked up at him confusedly. Sephiroth lifted his free hand to rub his temple. He was not looking forwards to spending the next three days here, in fact, at this rate, having villagers curse his name and throw various trash at him would have been a preferable experience in comparison to dealing with a young child, "No more questions, please."

"Why?"

He growled lowly, but Yuffie did not seem to notice. He knew that he had to reign in his temper and quickly drew in a deep breath. "It is my birthday," Sephiroth began, noticing the widening of the girl's eyes,"It would be very kind of you to respect my wishes for today." She giggled again and after untangling herself from around his legs, immediately grabbed his elbow. Of course, she was standing on her toes, so he lowered his hand for her to take. Yuffie did and promptly began to pull him through the gardens towards the palace.

It was not long until he saw the Empress, her legs folded beneath her as she waited for her daughter's return. She was the epitome of Wutaian beauty and elegance, from the styling of her dark hair and the shape of her face to the way she held her shoulders. It was an oddity to think that she, or her traditional husband, would allow for Yuffie to run amok as she does, without any semblance of polite behavior.

"Mother!" the Princess was pulling with all of her slight strength, but Sephiroth hardly noticed her effort. "I found him! I found him! I found Kitty." Upon hearing the Empress' chuckle, the silver-haired warrior found himself grimacing, though to any onlooker, there was only a small downturn to his lips and brows. "He said he brought presents but he won't let me have them 'cause he said I should wait. Then he said it was his birthday!" Yuffie looked up at him,"Kitty…how old are you? I just turned four!"

"Eighteen."

"Wow…you're old…" she informed him with a wrinkle of her nose. "Not as old as my dad, but…old!" The fact that she referred to her father more casually than her mother escaped Sephiroth as recovered from her declaration that he was old. In many ways, he was young, hardly more than a child…but compared to her, he was certainly…old. There were days he felt it. But her words cut deeper than the physical strain of exhaustion—her words were like a slap to his very conscious.

"Yuffie, that is not very nice."

"Sorry, Mother."

The Empress offered an indulgent smile,"It is time for you to return to your studies, Yuffie. Go on."

"But…it's his birthday! And…and he only visits once a year…" she actually sounded disappointed.

"Do not force me to repeat myself," the Empress began, her tone firm. For once, Yuffie bowed out of the argument and hurried inside, stealing one last glance over her shoulder. Her eyes begged for him to stay just a little longer and he had no idea why. "General Sephiroth." He turned his attention to the older woman. "Welcome. As you can see, Yuffie was very eager to see you…and she has been practicing her Continental rather adamantly."

It was Sephiroth's turn to ask why.

"It was an ultimatum between the two of us," she replied, rising to her feet and smoothing the folds of her kimono. "I promised that she could visit you in Midgar once she finishes a certain level of her studies, which includes fluency in the language spoken there."

"I can speak most dialects of Wutainese, your highness." Sephiroth felt his headache growing at the very prospect of Yuffie visiting him in Midgar. He would have to take time off from work during the entirety of her stay merely to keep track of the hyperactive brat. With his luck, she would blow all semblance of quiet when it came to their engagement. "There would have been little difficulty for us to communicate should she have not learned Continental."

A wry smile played upon the Empress' lips,"There are others in Midgar who do not understand nor wish to understand Wutai's language. How would she communicate with them?" The arch of his brow must have revealed his inner thoughts. "Ah. You do not wish her to." she shook her head,"I understand your concerns, General, but they are for naught. No one will harm my daughter while she is in your care, even if they disagree with the engagement."

Silence fell between them for a moment, but the Empress seemed undeterred. With a flick of her wrist, she motioned for him to follow.

He did.

000X000

It was late into the night before Sephiroth at last laid down to rest.

Sleep often escaped him these days, with his mind and body attuned to the rigors of combat, he found himself all too awake when he most needed slumber. Now was one of those days and he could not help but stared aimlessly at the ceiling above him, his mako-enhanced sight cutting through the darkness with inhuman ease. No detail was left unseen, even if cast in shades of gray.

His temporary quarters were suited to the tastes of a lesser noble rather than a General raised in the minimalistic atmosphere of a laboratory. From the bed that filled a majority of the given space, plush and slippery with silk, framed with fine, polished wood; to the walls covered in art work, mostly of ink or watercolor landscapes and birds; to the marble floor masked with intricate, oriental rugs that were more distracting than practical. Sephiroth, had he the choice, would have slept in the servants quarters on a mat. The unyielding floor beneath him would have been preferred to the mattress that threatened to swallow his weight whole, and the sounds of others breathing would have been the comforting melody of barrack living.

He honestly missed the days he spent as a lower ranking SOLDIER. It was the best time of his life, those weary, aching weeks spent in crowded stations. Sephiroth was free of the lab then, and free of the binds of higher rank. There were few reports to fill and many missions to complete. When he and his fellow men returned from their assignments, he would spend the following days doing as he pleased rather than pleasing his superiors.

But, those were old memories. Becoming General at the tender age of fifteen had stripped from him what frivolous fancies he possessed and pushed him into the middle of ShinRa's politics. Not that he minded war, it was how he proved his worth and gained his pay, but he despised the hidden reasons that were behind them. It made Sephiroth feel useless…used… It made it difficult to trust anyone in power or anyone who sought it.

So he chose not to trust.

It made things tolerable.

However, his patience was drawn thin when he was shown exactly how much freedom he had lost since becoming a First Class SOLDIER. He did not want to be treated differently than he had been, yet he was thrust forth as an idol. A symbol to admire and respect. He could not quite comprehend why anyone would strive to be a pawn. A marionette held by unbreakable strings.

Few choices were left to him anymore.

Sephiroth shut his eyes, trying to block out bitter musings. Reminding himself of how little he controlled in his own life would not garner any sleep…then he heard it. The sliding screen being opened and someone entering, bare feet sticking slightly to marble.

Without warning, the young General flung himself out of bed and in that same movement, grabbed Masamune from where she hung above him on the wall. Steel flashed and someone screamed. A little girl. Sephiroth halted his strike, the edge of his blade precariously close to the trespasser's throat.

"Yuffie?" His eyes focused on the small form on the other side of the room clinging desperately to what she held in hand. She was breathing in an uneven staccato, her pupils dilated with adrenaline—he could only see the faintest rim of gray around them. Sephiroth lowered Masamune and glared sharply at the Princess. "Explain yourself."

She swallowed thickly, her whole body trembling with something that was not quite fear. He considered her for a while, realizing that it was excitement. Yuffie, a mere child, found thrill in her very life being in danger. Sephiroth was not sure whether to be impressed or disturbed by this revelation.

"I brought you a present…" Yuffie said as her shaking dwindled into a shiver. "…For your birthday." She held out what she had been clutching to her chest earlier. The silver-haired warrior assessed the situation, noting with discontent that the blind trust in her gaze had dimmed. She drew no closer. "I didn't mean…I'm sorry."

_'No…I'm sorry.'_ Sephiroth could not find it in himself to utter those words. Instead, he replaced Masamune on the wall and closed the distance between himself and the girl. Yuffie, for all her vivacious courage, took a step backwards. "You should not be here," he informed her coolly, brusquely. Watching her flinch did not gain him any satisfaction. She was a mere child, one who needed discipline from a firm hand, but a child all the same. His tone was one that put the fear of Gaia into the most reckless of men…inappropriate for the situation at hand.

"I k-know…people say you're mean…you're evil…" Was he cold and condescending at times? Yes. Unnecessarily cruel? No. He had his honor. He did not harm children or those whom are unarmed. Never once did he strike an enemy from behind. He never raped women. He never caused undue suffering—he made sure his blows were clean and fatal. What about that behavior could be considered evil? "But you're nice…you bring me presents." Yuffie was drooping guiltily now. "You don't hurt me and you make Mother smile. I don't know why they said not to bother you…"

Sephiroth crouched before her, putting himself eye level with his betrothed. She stared at him, fidgeting as if she were struggling to comprehend what had changed between them. She did not understand why she should fear him until now. She had never seen the part of him that was engineered into monstrous perfection. "I am a dangerous man, Yuffie." his voice was perfectly even. It was as if he were discussing a topic as droll as the weather in Midgar.

"Is it true?" she asked quietly, drawing back the bundle in her hands and cradling it like one might an infant. "Are you…?"

"I am a warrior. Many lives were lost to my blade in the name of war," his gaze snapped to the bundle in Yuffie's arms when it began to shift and wriggle in her grip. The girl shielded it with one hand and looked away. He saw the word 'Demon' mouthed upon her lips. "Yes, Yuffie. I am the Demon." _'You have every reason to loathe my presence…to wish for my leave of this place. I will not blame you, come your eighteenth year, if you spit my name with hatred.'_

Yuffie suddenly shook her head with disbelief and blindly thrust the bundle forwards again. To his shock, the misshapen cloth began to squirm and let out a pitiful squeak. "Mother said you were a good man…A quiet, lonely man who has done bad things. But a good man at heart." It was the calmest she had ever spoken, and her fluid speech patter surprised him. There was a distinct accenting to her words and her pitch was very high, but had he not known who she was, Sephiroth would have never suspected it be a four year old whom had spoken. "And…and I trust you…You let me call you Kitty and climb on your back. A bad man would not do that."

Like a silk curtain, silence fell around them. It was not harsh or biting, rather, it tumbled and caressed. Yuffie looked up at him again and smiled shyly. Sephiroth, his mind mulling over what had just been said, absently received his gift, which, promptly began to squirm, startling him out of his contemplations. It took only a moment to remove the cloth and reveal what lay beneath.

Two snowy ears and a pair of vividly green eyes greeted him.

He was about to ask why Yuffie decided it was a good idea to wake him up and give him a kitten in the middle of the night when he heard the clatter of footsteps. Sephiroth stood up, eliciting a complaint from the ball of fluff in his hands. The royal family had him housed him in the wing of the palace furthest from their own quarters and with the exception of himself, the Turk that was supposed to be guarding his door, and some servants, it was empty. The only reason there would be an influx of people was if there were some sort of emergency…

Immediately, his eyes fell upon the Princess at his feet.

Yuffie was not in her room and had screamed when he had almost attacked her. Someone either noticed she was missing or fetched guards when they heard her cry. There was about to be serious trouble and he was in no position to deal with it. After all, how is one supposed to explain why the child Princess in the same room as the Demon General in the middle of the night? Armed with an unhappy kitten and disheveled from sleep, wearing only a thin pair of sweatpants—Sephiroth was hardly the picture of prepared. In fact, traditionally speaking among the Wutaian people, his current state of dress around a female was considered scandalous.

Before he could even remember where he put the robe provided to him to use during his stay, the screen door was thrown open and a dozen armed guards flooded into his room. Yuffie, panicked by the behavior of the men, scurried behind Sephiroth's legs and clutched fistfuls of fabric in her little hands.

"_What have you done with Princess Kisaragi?_" demanded one of the men in Wutainese, his high rank glinting in gold on the edges of his uniform.

"_She is well_," Sephiroth smoothly replied, attempting to keep some of his dignity despite the fact that the kitten was climbing up his arm, its claws like tiny needles. The guardsmen did not take kindly to his response, as expected, and many of them pressed closer, swords drawn. He was surprised that they did not attack him on sight and actually gave him a chance to speak. Not they he suspected that they would listen.

One of men growled from the crowd,_ "Seize the Demon!"_ which incited similar murmurs from the others. Their leader was glaring daggers at Sephiroth, those dark eyes burning with malice. He was a man whom remembered the war and its losses. One whom likely did not know why the family he served allowed for the enemy to even step foot on Wutai's soil. One whom wished to wipe ShinRa's away like a stain.

Remaining steadfast, Sephiroth made no movement to escape or to fight back. He could feel Yuffie's heart beating wildly as she clung tighter to his leg. Then, the tension that was escalading too quickly to even hope to control, was broken. It was not by a guard. Nor was it by the young General. Rather, it was by Yuffie, whom threw herself between them with a wordless cry.

Everyone in the room froze.

_"Leave him alone!"_ she snarled, emphasizing her point by crossing her arms and stomping a foot. _"He is nice and it's his birthday."_ The kitten she then pointed at had managed to crawl all the way up Sephiroth's arm and was now attempting to climb onto his head, occasionally batting at an askew lock of hair, "_No one would let me see him to give him a gift."_

"_Princess! You entered the room of the enemy,"_ the leader of the guards attempted to grab her wrist, but she twisted away. _"He ruined our country! You do not understand the severity of your actions…"_

_ "He is my friend! He visits me and Mother says I can visit him in Midgar when I finish my studies."_

Her announcement causes the man to let out a choked sound and pale. _"Lies,"_ he whispers, _"Levithan forbid…tell me it is a lie…"_

Knowing nothing else to say, Sephiroth lets out a sigh. Perhaps the Empress was right in her wishing to break the news to the public. It might have saved some trouble now…or could have created more at a later date. _"She speaks the truth,_" he says, dispassionate, _"Visitation is part of the contract written between the royal family and President ShinRa." _

_ "Contract?"_ Yuffie frowned with confusion, "_What contract?"_

Every pair of eyes settled on the young General—undaunted, he met their stares with resolution. _"The contract insuring peace between our nations. If not for it, ShinRa would have continued to fight Wutai until he controlled the entire country and his influence overcame your culture. As promised by said contract, ShinRa will station no troops within Wutai's territory and in return Wutai will allow for the construction of Mako reactors and ensure the safety of the men working there. The document was sealed by the sworn, future union of Princess Yuffie Kisaragi and President ShinRa's ward…General Sephiroth."_

The men retreated from Sephiroth's room an instant later, their voices reflecting their disbelief and abhorrence for what his words meant. Yuffie was shuffled along with them and escorted back to her room, obviously confused by what she had just heard.

Praying to every god and goddess he could think of, the silver-haired warrior collapsed on his bed, hoping that he had not made a terrible mistake.

Sleep, of course, continued to evade him.

Morning had yet to peek over the horizon when Sephiroth rose from where he lay, realizing quickly that there was something fluffy curled at the crook of his neck. Said fluff stretched lazily, rolled over, and curled up again, content to continue sleeping. Again he wondered what possessed Yuffie to give him the small creature as a gift. As a SOLDIER, he had no time to care for a pet…

Then, the kitten yawned and its oversized ears and paws twitched slightly as it yet again adjusted itself.

Deciding to contemplate that issue later, he began his morning routine, cleaning up and changing clothes. He had just sat down of the edge of his bed to lace up and buckle his boots when the sliding screen door opened. Prepared for the worst, Sephiroth allowed his gaze to life towards his visitor.

Standing there, with a single guard at her side and Yuffie at her feet, was the Empress. Behind her was a sheepish looking Turk who refused to meet his gaze, leading the General to suspect that the man was aware of his negligence earlier and was feeling guilty. He had every reason to run screaming bloody murder for that was what Sephiroth was planning to commit at this point. Had the man simply done his job then the whole incident with the Princess would have never occurred.

"Your highness," he offered respectfully upon standing. The Empress smiled and her guard snarled about how Sephiroth was a disrespectable cur for not bowing. Of course, he ignored the man. Had the Empress wished him to bow then she would have asked it of him. A part of him suspected that the formalities of royal tradition and Wutaian culture were overwhelming for the woman, especially if she were what he suspected. If one is trained to be invisible, attention was usually the last thing you want..

"General Sephiroth," the Empress returned after her guard calmed down,"it seems that the news of your engagement has spread…its seed planted by your very lips."

"Indeed," Sephiroth folded his arms behind his back and fastened his eyes upon Yuffie, whom was playing with her mother's skirts. The Empress then touched her daughter's shoulder, love written plainly upon her face. It still amazed him how she could sacrifice something she held so dear to her heart so easily. Then again, Yuffie was a girl, something valuable to royals only if they could be married off to expand influence or improve relations. A son would be something too precious to lose…but had Yuffie been that male heir, there would have been no consideration of a marriage. There was a chance that the war could still be raging.

There was a chance he could have spent his life free to choose a life partner…or to choose if he wanted one. Marriage was far from high on his list of dreams, but it was a duty he would fulfill without resistance. Perhaps it would be a union of name only, allowing them both to choose their lovers freely. After all, when Yuffie turned eighteen, she would still be a child. She would want someone young and reckless with said youth, not a man hardened by his past. And when he was a man of thirty-two, likely he would not want a child at his arm or in his bed…

"Kitty?" it was the Princess, she had untangled herself from the Empress and had approached him with curiosity in her gray eyes. Sephiroth sighed and indulged the girl with a faint, but lifeless smile. Yuffie could not seem to read the severity of his mood in the expression and promptly ran up to him with a giggle. The silver-haired warrior tried to side step her, but she manage to grab his leg and crawl half-way up it like a damned cat yet again.

The guard looked ready to have a fit but a dismissive gesture by the Empress silenced any argument. "Yuffie, it is not polite to climb guests." she said, though without enthusiasm—amusement glittering in her eyes. It really did confuse Sephiroth, the way the Empress allowed certain behaviors that should be disciplined.

"But Kitty doesn't mind, do you Kitty?"

Sephiroth answered her with a glare.

"You should treat him more respectfully," she glanced at her gaping guardsman and shrugged one shoulder, deciding to ignore his pallor. "Not only is he a guest but he is your friend and betrothed." How could she be so nonchalant about the subject?

Reluctantly, Yuffie let him go, "Sorry." But of course there was little that dampened her spirit and with a series of little bounces from foot-to-foot, she asked,"I still get my present, right?" Did she not understand what the word 'betrothed' meant or was she too young to be anything but optimistic about the situation? In a few years she would hate him, he was certain. Perhaps he should appreciate these younger years where the girl still tolerated his presence.

"Of course…" Sephiroth conceded, turning away and unzipping his traveling trunk (his Turk escort had done one thing right in bringing it to his room unscathed). Yuffie was a ball of hyperactive energy and was ready to burst by the time the young General faced her again, present in hand. "I have little experience with children and scant knowledge of what would be deemed appropriate…" his gaze lifted to the Empress as he continued, "Pardon if my gift strikes you as…unique."

"It's sooo heavy!" Yuffie cried in complaint as she wobbled beneath the weight of the oddly shaped case in her hands. Then, she let out a huff and dropped it. Sephiroth merely shrugged, certain that the object within the case could withstand any abuse that a four year old could cause. "What is it?" she asked with a pout as she knelt and undid the clasps on the side. Soon her eyes widened and with two trembling hands, Yuffie lifted her prize from its velvet bed.

The Empress nodded with approval, something unreadable about her expression.

"It's a…a…" Yuffie scrunched nose as she struggled to remember the right word.

"Shuriken," Sephiroth finished for her,"It is a standard, four-point shuriken." The Princess grinned as she handled the weapon much too large for her to yet handle appropriately. "Which means," he continued,"it possess two materia slots." Yuffie peered into the case, gasping at what she saw winking up at her. "An unleveled Throw and Luck Plus seemed sensible choices."

"Materia…" the Empress stared with wonder,"we do not have these here."

"Are materia the magic stones?" Yuffie asked as she set her weapon aside and caressed the gleaming crystals.

"Magic is a vague, inaccurate term…but yes, materia possess unique traits that can be harnessed and channeled by a skilled user." Sephiroth stated simply. Every eye in the room was upon Yuffie as she picked up the yellow Command materia and began to make faces in the reflective surface.

"Your gift is most generous, General Sephiroth," at last, the Empress seemed to find the words to speak. The guard suddenly found his voice as well as began ranting profusely about how twisted and wrong it was for the Demon to give the Princess weapons and call it a present. He was ignored, mostly, but his hateful words did reach the young General's ear…so he listened. "However, the treaty strictly banned the usage, creation or ownership of materia on Wutai's soil."

"I am aware."

"You would break the vows made by a contract in the interest of keeping peace?"

"If it means protecting my betrothed,"—Sephiroth's voice was dead serious—"then yes."

The Empress laughed softly,"You are a good man."

"He shall have us all killed with this—!" the guard began, his voice taking on a strangled quality as he attempted to step into the room. However, the Turk did his duty and restrained the man, informing him that he was no to enter the boundaries of Sephiroth's quarters with the intention to harm. The guardsman growled and attempted to gain advantage, but the Turk had him on the ground, pinned, in a second flat.

There were few who could take a Turk in hand-to-hand or close combat and he was not one of them.

"It is time for me to take my leave," the Empress gestured for her daughter to come to her, and Yuffie did, but only after putting away her new 'toys' and picking up the cumbersome case. "Do try and enjoy your stay here…and do not be surprised if those you know in Midgar catch wind of your engagement before you return."

Yuffie grinned widely,"Thank you Sephiroth! Take good care of Princess." And then she was gone, leaving him momentarily stunned by two things. One, she had called him by his actual name for the first time in her life…and two, the kitten she left in his care was named Princess. What a day the Silver Elite would have should they discover that the fearsome General Sephiroth and Demon of Wutai had a kitten named Princess, of all things.

He blinked…realizing that he had decided to keep the fluff ball that had yet to leave the middle of the bed.

"I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?" he asked the now empty room, and he was answered with only silence.

**Interlude**

_A brief passage detailing the whereabouts of a certain Turk when Yuffie snuck into Sephiroth's quarters. It didn't quite fit into the storyline, so, here it is._

**.x.**

Being a Turk was far from all fun and games. Every day, death dogged at your doorstep and you had to smile and punch it in the teeth. It was a way of life that most could not withstand, the pressure too great for them to handle. Watching people die, oftentimes at your hands, was a dehumanizing experience, one that you either grew numbly acceptant of, learned to enjoy, or broke because of.

Rod had seen the worst the world had to offer during the war, and was one of only a handful of Turks that did not shatter.

He was also one of the youngest.

It was this fact that often landed him in the least desirable of jobs presented to the Turks. Like monitoring the General…whom was perhaps one of the most boring teenagers alive! Unless the guy was beating shit up or having a verbal spar with his fellow First Class SOLDIER, Genesis Rhapsodos, Sephiroth never _did_ anything.

The man did not drink.

The man did not party.

The man barely socialized.

And if the rumors were true, the man never had a proper fuck. Yeah, fuck. It was the right word for what most SOLDIERs did with women…or men…or whatever the hell they happened to fancy at the time. Most weren't picky. Probably the Mako…But, regardless of what the norm was for most males and SOLDIERs his age, Sephiroth never really fit in the mold. He was always odd, outlandish…different.

Oftentimes, for all his practiced elegance, Sephiroth was an utterly inept klutz when it came to basic social interaction. Those who saw his other side, the side that did not slay monsters without the batting of an eye or command great legions of men into the depths of hell, knew that the General had difficulty with something as simple as small talk. He could be unpredictable in his responses, some days he was morbidly serious, others he was scathingly sarcastic and he lost his temper all too easily when there was a situation out of his control or he was put out of his microscopic comfort zone. But what was most disturbing were the days that he remained utterly silent, observing and listening, his eyes narrowed with thought as he held himself proud and aloof.

It was on those days that Rod wanted to bash his head against a wall to relieve the utter dullness of it all.

Including when he was supposed to be on guard duty.

More often than not, he refrained from hurting himself in favor of other things. Usually medial, mindless tasks that distracted him from the dreaded silence.

The mission in Wutai was supposed to a break from the doldrums. Escorting the most hated man into the royal palace of all places should have been an awesome, thrilling adventure. But no…there were no crowds gathered in the gardens demanding blood in retribution. There were no death threats or assassination attempts. There had not even been a single soul in sight when the helicopter landed!

Well, not a soul except the Princess, whom raced up screaming Kitty like a wild thing.

Had he not wanted to keep his head between his shoulders, Rod might have been tempted to laugh or even dare to make some comment on the matter. Instead he kept his mouth shut, choosing to be the ever silent shadow.

And it was boring!

Come that night, he was aching for some action. Twitchy and seeing no harm in abandoning his post for a few minutes (or hours, not as if Sephiroth would notice him missing), Rod wandered away. His mind quickly jumped to memories of flickering lanterns and booze hard enough to knock a man flat in a single shot. Visiting the local bar sounded like a good idea. What was it called again? Turtle Paradise! That was it.

He would go there, drink himself into a stupor, and sober up in the morrning while Sephiroth was busy with meetings or paper work or other crap like that.

However, his plans were shattered by a scream.

Rod tensed, sucking in a deep breath of the night air. Freedom was so close, but he had to return to duty. Closing the door, the young Turk snuck back to his post, realizing only too late that Sephiroth's quarters were being swarmed by guards.

**000tbc000**

**A/N: ( So how is everyone enjoying the story thus far? Please, tell me. I love feedback, idea cookies and advice. I'm a growing writer and I like to know where I stand with my readers. Also, feel free to PM me. I almost always open for a little chat or even a deep discussion. Bouncing ideas off of people is one of the ways my stories come to life. Thank you again for reading! )**


	3. 3

**A/N:**

Here is part three…now beta'ed!

**Word Count: **6,653

**Disclaimer: **I still own nothing.

**Something Different, Entirely Unexpected**

**By Catsitta**

**(Chapter beta: **blackcat868**)**

3.

Ever since he was a child, Sephiroth was acutely aware of the passage of time. Within his own head he possessed an internal clock. One that not only ticked off seconds, minutes and hours, but also measured the span stretching between events both in the past and awaiting in the future. It was this skill that he fashioned in his early years in order to keep sane amongst the white washed walls in which he was raised.

He used to track his progress in his studies. At first he counted the time it took for him to learn a subject then to master it. Then he would count the minutes he spent training…the number of seconds it took to fell a monster. He even kept track of time in his teen years, numbly revolving numbers within his head to keep other thoughts out. Flooding himself with useless information, Sephiroth built a barrier between the horrors of war and his fragile mind.

Because for all he was trained as a weapon from birth…he was still so very sheltered. So very innocent when he first stepped onto enemy soil.

Tracing back the years, counting the months and breaking them down into minutes, then seconds in a matter of simple multiplication, Sephiroth dared to remember that first moment. That first ground shattering vision. It ripped into his tender heart. The landscape was ruined, its fair beauty scarred by mangled corpses of flesh and steel, and drenched in unforgiving rain that threatened to swallow everything up with mud.

It was little known fact that he had not joined the battle immediately after his arrival upon ravaged soil. That he was an unranked, untested SOLDIER that his superiors knew not what to do with. Knew not how his youth would affect him and suspected it would be a handicap of the worst kind.

His skill, power and versatility was that of a veteran First Class. But he was a greenling in matters of experience. No one, not even himself, knew what the war would create of him. He, a spindling fourteen year old science project, was the last person anyone believed would climb the ranks in record time. In the background, before the Wutaian's ever saw his deadly dance of combat, Sephiroth poured every ounce of himself into the war. He debated strategies with ranked, decorated men; he kept his head when those around him panicked and lost his temper when everyone lost their will to fight.

They claimed him weak, told him that he would be the first to die once he tasted the bloody reality of battle.

Nay. He had been the first to relish in the freedom of it. He had been the first to sink his blade into a man and watched with utter fascination as he died. However, beneath the fascination, an inkling of dread took root. What was he becoming, he wondered, but the thrill of the battle overcame the haunting questions that lurked inside his young mind.

Sephiroth had felt an ache in his chest, pity one could call it, when he saw the way the land was marked. But seeing the lively splash of crimson against steel and white flesh; eyes growing wide and mouth gaping; limbs thrashing in a desperate attempt to alleviate the pain; it had excited him. Put into him a dangerous appreciation for death and the dying. Little did he know how much it changed him, how each drop of blood watered the cold seed of disgust that festered within him.

Soon, as the deaths added up, the days spent upon the battlefield chilled him, hardened him, and turned him into something he was afraid of in so many ways. At fourteen, Sephiroth had seen and caused more death than many of his fellow SOLDIERs. Unlike them, he had not broken down, appalled by his efficiency and crumpled into fits of tears. He had not bemoaned his plight and allowed his fear of becoming a monster consumed him. No. He began to track time, to lose himself again in the flow of events and the passing of seconds.

He forced his mind to wander, to creep beyond the icy cage he was creating for himself. A deadly snare for a boy yet turned man. Sephiroth reflected on his fascination with death and blood and soon developed something akin to a distaste for it. His kills soon began to reflect those feelings as he refined his craft into the keenest of proficiency. No longer did he revel in the gore and spray of crimson. He struck his enemy down cleanly, stealing from them their life before they could suffer a moment's worth of pain.

It was by then that the people of Wutai had started to call him Demon.

Not when he had savagely mutilated.

Not when he had admired the beauty of a dying man's agony.

But when he became a cold, ruthless machine, his strikes clean and efficient and his battles lasting for no longer than need be. Soon, he was cutting swathes through armies and bathing in more blood than ever before…but he had his honor at least. It was an obscure brand of honor, known only to those who lost their innocence to the prideful violence of war, but it was still honor. It was still a code that kept him feeling human when he knew that his purpose was to be a weapon.

It was a code he patched together, one made of what remained of his hope and purity and sewn with threads made of promises. It was a code he wore like a cloak, warming himself against the ice that he had built up inside his soul. It kept him safe. It kept him from plunging into the frigid waters of madness. It was what allowed him escape the binds of his numbers, those steady increments of time, and think idly about common things. Things not aligned with strategy or death.

In a world of politics and prosecution—strategy and death were all too prevalent, even outside the battlefield.

000X000

At a week shy of twenty-three, the last thing on Sephiroth's mind should have been the war. It had been over for a great while now, brought to a tentative, reluctant end by his engagement to Yuffie. Five years at least, he surmised, continuing to calculate the exact date the Wutai War was forced to a close. Yet here he was, an adult in every regard and the General of an army at peace, unable to shake his thoughts free of the crimson-hued tangle.

Was he only good for killing? Was he truly a heartless monster whose only purpose was war and destruction? An image of Genesis flickered through his mind, reminding Sephiroth of their spar gone awry. Guilt assaulted him…he never meant to harm the man. Yet death and injury seemed to follow the silver General wherever he went.

Abruptly, he shoved away morbid thoughts.

There was work to be done and his mind refused to obey his commands to focus at the task at hand.

Sephiroth stared down at the papers in his hands. He had been on the same page of this document an hour ago.

With a heavy sigh of exasperation, the General set aside the documents and began to massage his temples. Stress was getting to him, distracting him. His head positively swam with thoughts of one disaster or another no matter how hard he tried to shake them away. Perhaps he was suffering the latent effects of his years as a child SOLDIER. Perhaps his workload was too much and the lack of sleep was catching up. Perhaps he was simply too anxious about his struggling friendship with Genesis and his subconscious was goading him to make amends.

Whatever the reason, or reasons, he could not concentrate. Not now. Sephiroth decided that it was time to take a day off…

His mind briefly wandered to Angeal and Genesis as he began to put away the documents and shut down his computer. His two Commanders were likely in their respective offices, filling out paperwork mindlessly. Zack Fair, Angeal's newly establish protégé, was probably in training at the moment eager to be free of the standard regimen so that he could pester his mentor into taking a break. The boy had proven himself a good influence on the man, giving the SOLDIER a new perspective on life and helping him enjoy it better.

In fact, the shift in temperament had been so great, that Director Lazard had suggested rather pointedly that Sephiroth and Genesis should consider joining the mentorship program. Sephiroth, of course, said nothing and had thus far made no effort nor shown any interest towards the matter. Genesis, on the other hand, frightened his subordinates with his temperamental fits (as of late, said fits had grown drastically worse) and his utter lack of patience made him a poor candidate for the program. Any Cadet or SOLDIER Third put under his watch would likely end up fried to a crisp or thrown headfirst into the sewer… in front of a train…or sliced to bits.

"I cannot rid my thoughts of you." Sephiroth murmured softly. If it was not war he was thinking of it was Genesis. Would it be so difficult to apologize? After all, had he not provoked his friend-turned-rival into a blistering one-on-one duel, then the man would have never been injured. Had he never been injured, then perhaps Genesis' pride would not have been so thoroughly wounded that he refused to even speak to him. And his friend began to look so weary, haggard, almost as if he had stopped taking care of himself after that day. Never before had Sephiroth seen him possessing such an unhealthy pallor nor had his hair ever lost so much shine.

Genesis was sick. Whether it was an illness of body that was affecting his mind, or the other way around, Sephiroth did not know. But…

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Enter."

Angeal's bulky frame filled the doorframe. There was a pensive look on his face—his cobalt eyes dark despite the mako that gave them shine. As he began to speak, something small shot past him and hurtled over Sephiroth's desk. Instinctively, the silver-haired swordsman intercepted it and soon found his arms filled with a certain someone.

"Yuffie!" the nine year old had her limbs tangled about him, her hands clutching fistfuls of hair. There was fear reflecting in typically fearless eyes and tear-stains marked her face. Sephiroth hesitated, uncertain how to react. He knew that speaking caustically at the moment would yield no fruit, but he doubted soft words would garner any results either. The girl was just too distressed.

The General eventually relaxed, allowing his arms to wrap about the slim, quivering form of his betrothed. She was crying again. Sephiroth could feel her sobbing against his chest, her little face hidden by the folds of his leather duster. If it had been any other person, child or no, whom had pounced upon him, he would have happily thrown them across the room by now. He hated surprises. He hated being manhandled. And by Gaia! He hated it when people touched his hair.

But Yuffie…she was a special case.

She was like a niece to him. He loved—yes, he, the great Demon of Wutai was capable of loving another living creature—her as any uncle would. He tolerated her more than anyone else, even his closest friends.

A small, niggling part of his mind reminded him that this girl was his fiancé. This loud, hyperactive child would one day be his wife in name and as the only heir to the Kisaragi line, Yuffie would be expected to produce a child of her own. Sephiroth pushed away all thoughts of children, heirs and empires. It was perfectly healthy for a man of his age to desire a family—especially since he grew up not knowing what a real family was like. But Yuffie was just a child. A girl almost young enough to be his daughter! He wanted something…more. A woman. A real, grown woman.

When she came of age, Yuffie would likely desire a boy her age. A peer.

Neither of them would likely ever harbor in their hearts more than the simple love of family.

Speaking of which…what was the Princess doing so far from Wutai and in such a state! Her parents had to be frenzied with panic. "Yuffie," Sephiroth found himself murmuring, and the little girl began to shake and sob harder than before. Distressed and confused, the silver-haired General looked up, his eyes searching for answers in those of his longtime friend.

Angeal bowed his head.

Something terrible had happened.

Gently, Sephiroth wove his fingers through Yuffie's short tresses and cradled her head as she wept. The hands tangled in his own locks were reluctantly disengaged in favor of gripping the crisscrossing straps of his uniform that lay snug against his otherwise bare chest. The Princess then curled her legs up until her chin rested upon bent knees, making her slight frame seem even smaller against him.

Ignoring the fact that her boots were tracking filth all about his person, Sephiroth allowed the Wutaian girl to cry herself into a stupor. She was a sniffing, hiccupping wreck by the time she at last fell still, too exhausted to continue. And by then, Sephiroth had gathered his wandering thoughts as all matters of irrelevancy were thrust into the back of his mind.

"Yuffie," he began again, attempting to sound warm and sympathetic. Unfortunately, he failed spectacularly and the words that poured from his lips bore the detached chill and clipped edge trademark of his station. Nonchalance was not suitable for this occasion, but it was the best he could muster given that he was typically curt, if not blatantly short tempered, with both his superiors and subordinates."…I must ask: Why are you here? What has caused your distress? Yuffie…please tell me."

Red-rimmed eyes, swollen from crying, lifted to meet his stare. She did not balk at the intensity of his gaze as most did. She merely continued to cling to him as if he were her only lifeline amidst a vast ocean she was afraid she would drown in. "Mother…she…she…" Yuffie hiccupped, her breathing quickening into a rapid staccato as her emotions overwhelmed her body. Tears gathered in her eyes instantly, drowning the gray of her irises and streaking down her reddened cheeks. "…Almighty Levithan...she, she's gone. By the gods…she's gone! Gone! Gone! GONE!"

"Gone?" he felt his own heart skip a beat and his breathing fall still. "Empress Kisaragi…is gone? How?"

"Dead." Yuffie whispered. "Daddy told me…told me to run. Hide. Mother died in his arms…and he's hurt." She began to choke on her words. "Guards came…but it…it was too late. I ran. I ran to be safe. Mother said you…you would protect me always," her grip became tight around the leather straps in her hands. "Bad men took her away, Sephiroth. Bad. Bad. Men. She…she saved me from them…she protected daddy." Yuffie shook her head, her voice almost lost. "But there was so many of them and I was so scared. Then…then she fell. Blood. So much blood, everywhere. Daddy told me she was dead and told me to run."

"You came here?"

"Yes. It's not safe at home anymore…"

"The Emperor, is he?"

"Alive. Daddy's alive." She did not sound as if she believed the words coming out of her own mouth.

"How did you get here?"

"I ran. I hid. I fought." Yuffie closed her eyes she leaned against him, pressing as close as she physically could. "I did just what daddy told me to do...I fought just like Mother taught me. I…I stole food and money…and I snuck onto a ShinRa cargo ship. It was so scary. Midgar is scary! So many people."

Sephiroth stole a glance up at Angeal, whom still remained in the doorframe like a sentinel.

"Genesis caught her in Junon. He was returning from a mission in Wutai and saw of her stowing away on a ship and then again in a warehouse. It was a matter of trust when he approached her and only upon hearing your name did she calm down and allow him to escort her here. Genesis contacted me as soon as he reached Midgar and she has been in my custody since then. She refused to say a word to me except to ask your whereabouts and has declined food and medical treatment." Angeal sighed, his expression that of concern. It surprised Sephiroth to hear that Genesis had done something as selfless as assist a lost child almost as much as it surprised him that Yuffie was here in Midgar, obviously a survivor of an attack on the Imperial palace. "It is likely that the Turks are investigating the attack on the royal family as we speak."

"Thank you for telling me…Angeal." Sephiroth grimaced, his thoughts awhirl yet again. Slowly, he began to calculate numbers inside his head, if only to calm the storm that raged. He felt as if he had been thrust back onto the battlefields of Wutai, too young and inexperienced to comprehend the intensity of his situation. His mind, which tended to be adrift, was a treacherous minefield of perilous instincts and presumptions. Counting helped. If paved a path through the chaos. A small, winding one, but it cleared just enough of the distraction away for him to find a solution to the problem at hand.

Gathering the Princess up into his arms, Sephiroth stood. "Bring any possessions of Yuffie's in custody to my quarters. Weapons. Materia. Accessories…everything. Now. You are dismissed." Angeal saluted and quickly exited the room, leaving the betrothed pair alone. It was then that the silver General realized that Yuffie had fallen asleep, exhausted by her situation to the point of collapse.

'She looks so vulnerable,' he noted as he made haste from his office towards the elevator. 'Helpless.'

000X000

Yuffie awoke a few hours later and only due to Sephiroth's prompting. The girl was tired in every way, but she needed medical care more than sleep. She blinked up at him with swollen, bloodshot eyes and began to sniff. "S-sephiroth?" The silver General nodded and stroked a reddened cheek with his gloved fingers. "W...where am I?"

"ShinRa Headquarters," he offered quietly, retracting his hand and plucking the glass of water he had left on the bedside table shortly after laying Yuffie down to rest. "Specifically, my personal quarters. I assume you remember our conversation in my office?"

The Princess reached out and clasped the glass with both hands, and Sephiroth watched with displeasure as the water within began to ripple violently. Yuffie was trembling, but whether it was from fatigue or from another onslaught of emotional turmoil was anyone's guess. Thus he abandoned his usual stance on physical proximity and lowered himself onto the bed beside her, sitting with the rigid poise of a man used to power and expectation. His superiors and subordinates likened his posture as to having 'a stick up his ass' (as they had so poignantly put it). But, it was what he was familiar with doing and he did so without thought.

Somehow, Yuffie found it amusing.

A muffled giggle prompted him to glance at the child that had been crying in his lap earlier, and he realized that her tearstained face bore the hints of an emerging smile. Then, a grin broke out and Yuffie began to laugh. Sephiroth was almost offended, until he realized that her laughter was quickly becoming gasps and sobs. Tears sprang into her eyes quicker than a storm could brew upon the ocean.

"Yuffie? Yuffie…" he really had no idea what to do…

"I…I…I want Mother!" she wailed suddenly and Sephiroth frowned. It was an impossible request.

"Desist crying at once!" it was not the best choice of words…perhaps he could still resolve the issue more calmly. Thus he took in a breath, and attempted a more gentle approach,"Yuffie, please…please stop crying. We should not focus on your Mother right now, but on your father. The dead are, and shall always remain dead. Now is the time to focus on the living." Yuffie continued to cry. Unsettled and his temper atypically frayed, Sephrioth began to fidget where he sat. Maybe if he offered her comfort again, she would calm down.

"Go away!" Yuffie snarled, slapping the hand that he had reached tentatively towards her with. "You…you meanie!"

Sephiroth stood and exited the room, heeding the order of the weeping child. She was obviously distressed and he was not the person to handle the situation. Leaving the door ajar, so as to monitor the girl, the silver General slipped his PHS out of his pocket and made a call.

"Hello?"

"Fair. It's Sephiroth."

"Woah. Hey Sephiroth. What's up? Have a top secret mission for me or something?" he shook his head absently. Zackary was excitable and energetic, and many claimed it was the young SOLDIER's youth. But his bouncy, puppy-like behavior was far from the norm when it came to those whom soared through the military ranks as Zack was doing. He would likely be nominated for First Class soon, a feat in itself that only a select few could claim.

"Something of the sort."

"Cool! Count me in." the boy did not even ask what the mission entailed. His loyalty and trust in his superiors must be as blind as Angeal claimed. Such innocence was…worrisome.

"Meet me on floor 49, asap."

"The virtual reality training room?"

"Yes. I will alert Commander Hewley of your location."

"Roger that, General."

Sephiroth ended the call and glanced back at the bedroom door. Before he could let out a sigh of frustration, something familiar and fluffy made its way into his line of sight. Princess. The creature was no longer a tiny ball of fluff with eyes and ears. Instead, she was a large ball of fluff with eyes and ears. And the cat held herself with as much dignity as a feline could muster, her feather duster of a tail held nearly straight up as she pranced his way.

The silver-haired swordsman crouched and eyed his pet, whom stared back with eyes that matched his own, in both color and intensity. Princess lifted her head high and chirped in the way cats do, flaunting her newest "jewelry" as if aware of its price tag. The obnoxious feline had managed to destroy her last dozen collars in various, strangely inventive ways, and Sephiroth had all but given up on attempting to keep one on her. Then Genesis had a "bonding" moment with Princess a few months back, gifted her with a leather collar studded with some semi-precious stones and emblazoned with Sephiroth's personal seal of authority.

It was the first collar she deigned to wear for more than a few days, much to Sephiroth's frustration…Why did his cat have to have the same tastes as his friend-turned-rival? Now he had to live with the constant reminder that yes, he needed to get around to apologizing already…

"I have Yuffie to worry about. Now is not the time to think about Genesis." He grumbled, stroking behind Princess' ears briefly before rising and leaving to attend his scheduled meeting with Fair.

000X000

"So…super-secret mission…? I want details!" Zackary Fair had pounced upon Sephiroth the moment the General emerged from the elevator. His aquamarine eyes were bright with mako shine and when he was not pacing, he was doing squats like some caffeine-possessed energizer bunny. Warily, the silver General watched his chosen…assistant. And briefly he wondered if he had made a terrible, terrible mistake. "C'mon! Tell meeeee…" the whining didn't help the teenager's case.

"Fair," Sephiroth was sure to sound commanding, his tone cutting as he gazed upon his subordinate. "I need your assistance. Before I disclose the details of the assignment, you must swear to treat the information with the upmost secrecy and tend to the mission with the appropriate care—"

"I swear!" the raven-haired SOLDIER did not even let the older man finish speaking. He was already grinning with excitement and anticipation. How exactly had this particular sixteen year old make it through the ranks so quickly? Zackary seemed too childish to take the rigors of duty seriously.

As if sensing he was under severe scrutiny, the teen sobered, allowing his smile to fade and his energy to grow stagnant. Concern as well as determination gleamed in those young eyes and Sephiroth allowed himself to breath with ease. Fair would be perfect for the mission he had for him.

Straightening himself so as to look the part of all powerful authority, Sephiroth began to detail the mission. The young Second Class SOLDIER stared back with confusion, as if he utterly thrown for a loop by Sephiroth's request. Absently, Fair scratched the back of his head, tousling already wild, spiky locks. He then frowned…then he grinned as brightly as the sun itself.

"Babysit a lost Wutaian, ninja Princess, huh? Sounds fun. When do I begin?"

"Now."

"Woah. What will I tell Angeal?"

"He already knows as does Commander Rhapsodos. I suspect both will assist you in the endeavor when time permits."

"Wait…she's your fiancé. Why aren't you taking care of her?"

Sephiroth inwardly cringed,"I know very little about handling children and even less about those under emotional duress. As much as it pains me to admit, I need assistance. At least until Yuffie recovers enough to act normal."

"Define normal?" the look Zackary gave begged the question, 'What exactly do you define as normal behavior?'

The silver General shifted uncomfortably, "Running amok, being loud and disorderly as she climbs, steals and challenges those much larger than she to a fight."

"Is she really that bad?"

"Ask Commander Rhapsodos some time. He will tell you of her antics."

"You let Commander Asshole near a kid?" Zackary's eyes widened as he realized his slip.

Letting the comment slide, Sephiroth smoothly continued, "He is a trusted friend and SOLDIER, and has shown his restraint where Yuffie is involved."

"Huh…well, I guess it'd be best to check up on her now?"

"Indeed."

000X000

A week later found Sephiroth in the midst of chaos.

Zackary proved himself good with children, too good. Within the same hour that the Second Class SOLDIER was recruited for the top secret mission of helping a grieving Yuffie recover and calm down, he had the girl running about like a crazed animal. It was shocking, to say the least, to see the Princess transform from sobbing wreck into a ball of energy after being held close to Fair, murmured to in a soft voice and then given a reason to laugh.

There was still pain in Yuffie's eyes. Sephiroth heard her cry at night as nightmares consumed her. And more than once the girl had joined the silver General where he slept on the sofa—he had allotted her usage of his bed—curling up on his chest like a lost kitten.

Then again, that was what she was, in an offhand way. A lost kitten.

What disturbed the silver-haired warrior the most; however, were the feelings within his own heart. Grief stung him like an angry wasp, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore the sensation, it drew attention to itself.

The Empress was dead. The gray-eyed woman whom was a warrior at heart would no longer be there in Wutai to greet him, to meet his gaze with a steady stare, fearless in her own right. She had sacrificed what she loved most for the good of her country, a most honorable thing to do. And she sacrificed her own life to preserve those of her husband and child. Sephiroth had, at one time, envied her ability to self-sacrifice without hesitation. Then that envy had turned into a deep-rooted respect.

Perhaps, in a different place and time, that respect might have turned into something more substantial. Not love, no, but something more. Something unfamiliar but desired all the same. After all, she was hardly five years his senior and in their quiet talks they learned how much they shared in common. More truths were shared between them during their silence than when they spoke of their lives to anyone else.

And Yuffie, watching her gave Sephiroth a reason to remember the girl's mother. Remembering was the worst thing to do. It left him distracted and flustered. After all, the Empress had been his first…interest. Nothing became of it, of course. The Empress had known, though he had said naught on the issue, and had claimed it was woman's intuition before smiling cheekily at him. He had been twenty at the time and dreadfully inexperienced in ways of the heart.

Shaking his head, Sephiroth tried to clear his thoughts, but their conversation three years earlier kept playing in his mind.

_"You're staring, General."_

_ "Pardon, I mean no offense, Empress Kisaragi."_

_ Her laughter was like the chiming of bells, "Why would I take offense to a handsome young man finding me attractive?"_

_ "Pardon?" _

_ "I know that look in your eye, General. You may not know it, but your eyes are portals into your soul. From within them I can read the intentions of your heart."_

_ "I do not understand…"_

_ "Of course not…you are not like most men."_

_ Sephiroth had fallen into silence, his own thoughts betrayed upon his lips, "There are times where I doubt I am human."_

_ "Bah! You are a man. A late bloomer, but a man all the same." He touched his hair and the Empress shook her head, "I do not see the color of your hair, General, nor that of your eyes and skin. I see your actions and from them I know your heart is good…and in many ways, is pure." She reached out and placed a hand over his own, "Take care, General, for it is the purest of hearts that are the easiest to turn black with corruption. Especially those that are scarred by events out of our control."_

_ He did not want to continue speaking of the past, "You mentioned my being a late bloomer. How exactly do you deem that of me?"_

_ "I haven't caught you staring until this year, and you are not aware of the fact that you were staring. You are a man of twenty years taking his first steps into water that many boys tread when they are in their early teens. I will also presume that if you do not recognize your own attraction, then you have yet to lay with another."_

_ "Empress! That is—"_

_ "Do not say 'inappropriate', General, I am a wife and a mother. Speaking of love and lust is but a trivial matter, and I shall not faint from speaking of it."_

_ Sephiroth glanced away, flustered. He heard snickering from the corner of the room and saw his Turk escort trembling in the corner from amusement. By Gaia, he was embarrassed! But he refused to let it show, "I admit…I have little interest in…those matters."_

_ "A man whom has no interest in bed play? No such thing."_

_ "M'lady…"_

_ The Empress tossed her head haughtily and stood, tucking her hands into the billowing sleeves of her kimono. In three quick strides she rounded the low table between them and Sephiroth rose hastily to meet her. Toe-to-toe, he towered above the woman, but she made him feel small with that confident burn in her eyes. In a swift movement, she hooked her fingers through the straps of his uniform and he allowed her to pull him towards her. _

_ Confused, he stared into the gaze that was now level with his. _

_ The Empress smirked coyly and kissed his forehead in a matronly fashion, before releasing her grip and shoving him away with surprising strength. "No interest in bed play my foot." She snorted as she walked gracefully away. Sephiroth shifted uncomfortably. The room felt overwhelmingly hot and his clothes felt too tight in all the wrong places. "You are a man, General. My future son-in-law. I will not judge you should you find a partner or two in the coming years. But do take heed not to lose your heart, for once Yuffie turns eighteen, she will be your wife. And she will need your love and devotion."_

_ "I…may I be excused." Sephiroth's thoughts were racing. He needed out, now._

_ "Of course, General." Her laughter chased him every step of the way._

"Rest in peace, Empress Kisaragi." Sephiroth let out a long suffering sight, his attention at last returning to the present. In the middle of the living room, just a few feet from where he sat upon the sofa, Fair and Yuffie were wrestling on the floor. They both looked as if they were having the time of their young lives.

Yuffie shrieked suddenly, as the SOLDIER caught her nimble wrists and held them fast in one hand. "Gotcha!" Zackary teased, only find himself crumbling to the ground from a well-placed kick. "Ow…"

"Ha! I win."

"Yuffie," Sephiroth had shifted reflexively upon seeing where the young SOLDIER had been kicked. "That was most inappropriate."

Her eyes turned to him, wide and questioning, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"Ow…o..okay. I'm okay."

Yuffie quickly looked back at her playmate and smiled apologetically. A minute later, Sephiroth's stern warning was all but forgotten and the pair were at it again.

The silver General was ready to call it quits for the day and tell Zackary to leave, but the door to his quarters opened. He did not have to see the intruder to know who it was, for what was said revealed it all too well, "Goddess save us all…"

"Uncle Gen-Gen!" Yuffie chirped, abandoning Fair in order to scurry towards Genesis. It was only Sephiroth's inhumane reflexes that prevented the girl from leaping onto the older SOLDIER and causing all hell to break loose. "Awe…"

"Genesis," Sephiroth greeted.

"Sephiroth," was the crimson clad Commander's cool reply.

"It's been a while."

"Too long, old friend. Too long."

Questioning green eyes met those of haggard blue, "Agreed. I wish to thank you for assisting Yuffie."

Genesis ran his fingers through his hair, tilting his chin arrogantly, "I accept your thanks."

Forgiveness was granted without second thought.

.x.

**Interlude**

.x.

_"Commander Rhapsodos, do not engage. I repeat, do not engage. The situation is under control. Remain at your station. Over."_

With a grunt, the crimson-clad Commander shut his PHS. Rumors were flying around about an attack on the royal family of Wutai and his men were being commandeered by another officer in order to respond. Apparently, he was a liability. As a man, second to only General Sephiroth himself, Genesis was a liability.

He smothered the urge to sneer with displeasure despite the foul taste that the command left in his mouth.

It was not fair! He was THE Crimson Commander. He was a master of magic. He was a master of swordplay. He had led campaigns in Wutai when he was only sixteen, for he was one of the rising stars whose dreams of heroism and fame were cut short by Sephiroth's ascension to General. He was perfectly capable of running a rescue mission…but no.

He was a _liability_!

Genesis grit his teeth, barely restrained anger urging him to destroy something. In ten minutes, he was to board a ship heading towards the naval base in Junon. His purpose in Wutai had been fulfilled. Unconsciously, he tapped into the materia slotted in his sword and his fingertips began to smoke. It was only the familiar heat of magical fire against his gloved palm that snapped him into awareness.

He flicked his wrist, banishing the flame in an instant.

"What would Sephiroth say to your losing control like that?" Genesis asked himself, cursing the fact that that General stick-up-his-ass kept crossing his mind. Life was not fair. He was supposed to be the hero but was dealt all the wrong cards. Gaia! Even his own body was betraying him, belying his perfection through its sudden deterioration. Sephiroth, the golden boy, ruined his life. Ruined his every chance at greatness. Ruined his reputation. Ruined him!

A wave of nausea swept through him and the First Class SOLDIER nearly doubled over. Breathing in deeply, he settled his troubled stomach before placing a hand against his injured shoulder. Beneath the richly colored leather was a gash. It was no longer than his thumb and no wider than a thread, but it was the beginning of the end for Genesis. He knew it. For the tiny injury had not yet healed after nearly a month, and the torn flesh had blackened and started to produce a sickly ooze.

Professor Hollander, the man he had respected and looked to as a father ever since entering the SOLDIER program, dismissed him as a failure the moment he had seen it. Genesis had insisted on treatment, and Hollander had provided it, dosing the SOLDIER with exorbitant amounts of mako in a vain effort to heal his degrading system. But they both knew he was dying. Succumbing to a disease that riddled his very genetics.

Now all there was left to do was wait for death to come.

Genesis never was one to patiently wait for fate to work her wicked way with him.

Straightening his posture and ignoring his increasing discomfort, Genesis began to make his way from the station at which he waited. But before he could abandon his post and leave the curse of ShinRa forever, he saw something…or more specifically, someone.

Yuffie.

The little Princess was a hyperactive pest that enjoyed harassing SOLDIERs. His unit had been stationed at one of the Mako reactors only a few miles outside of the palace city about a year ago. They had been the security detail for the engineers checking and upgrading the systems. For the entirety of the three weeks he himself had been there, Yuffie had made his life a living hell.

She stole from his men.

She interrupted their training regimen.

And, worst of all, she decided that Genesis looked lonely and needed a friend.

Her solution? Trail after him like a lost puppy and steal his materia whenever he wasn't looking. Of course, she returned the precious stones…eventually. But that was only at the threat of being turned into an unrecognizable splotch on the floor, and even then she only seemed mildly amused by Genesis' fearsome temper.

Goddess save Sephiroth for that girl was a truck full of trouble.

And Goddess save him for the girl was attempting to sneak onto a military cargo ship and was doing a poor job of it. Then again, it seemed Genesis was the only one to notice…figures.

"Situation is under control, hm? Then why is the Princess so far from home and stowing away upon a ship bound for the mainland?" he grunted again before running a hand through his shoulder length, auburn tresses. He paused for a moment to examine a new streak of gray, furrowing his brow with frustration, before putting his attention back onto the task at hand. Obviously it would be a terrible idea to expose the Princess' location due to the fact he did not know which "side" was responsible for the attack on the imperial palace. It would be irresponsible to allow for her to wander about without an escort for the same exact reason.

A moment's worth of hesitation later, Genesis concluded it would be best to watch and wait for now. Later, should any problems arise, he would intervene. But until they reached Junon, there was no reason to involve himself further than need be.

"You owe me, Sephiroth," he muttered before making his way back towards the ship that was to take him home.

**-tbc-**

**A/N: ( Thank you for reading! Check out my new poll, please. Until next time…)**


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